Epmd

Epmd - Richter Scale lyrics

[Erick Sermon]

Uh huh

Yeah aww yeah uhh "Richter Scale"

It goes lights camera action I'm on

One more time to kill em my rap flow is fulfilling

I scream with the Beastie Boys What time is it?

It's two o'clock you gettin knocked out the box

then kicked off the block Def Squad Hit Squad

no we won't stop fuck it call the cops (uh huh)

I be the invincible in the school of hard knocks

I'm the principle, Fatman Joe y'know

[Parrish Smith]

As you suffer the repercussions, comin through the blaze

bust the crime scene, cause some drama, niggaz duckin

When we come through, throwin the jab, in the one-two

Layin MC's out to trap, when we run through (like what?)

Like the marathon, flooded with the diamonds on

Get my rhymin on, PMD fuckin shinin on

Back to Biz, new address with the fat crib

My shit in the Wiz, poli'-in with the big wigs

Chorus: Erick Sermon

Off the meter, and everytime we reach the

tip-top and ya don't stop, uhh!

In the field of rap, we pull rank no question

We top the "Richter Scale"

*repeat 2X*

[Erick Sermon]

Bust the techniques, E.D. fantastic

Unreal GangStarr shit, Mass Appeal

Rap's top dawg, I'm the one you call on

to get Sic'-Wid-It, E don't forget it

I'm six, two and a half, heavyset, chocolate brown

Hell of a jab, gift to gab

I'm the elite, keep it underground like street level

I rock a Rolex watch, with a diamond bezel

[Parrish Smith]

Rap terror terror, EPMD, a new era

Off the richter scale, blowin hotter than ever

with the Squadron, beg your pardon, got the heads noddin

Lost your mind and said, "Shit!!" when we barged in

the front door door, rugged, keeps our shit raw raw

Make hits for the fans, plus the world tour

Believe that, peep that E and P's back

Wreckin heads daily, so chill and Get the Bozack

Chorus

[Erick Sermon]

Yo Royal Flush-in, all my cats be bustin

Servin you Customers and those fake hustlers

Whassup? Step to me, I smack you silly

I'm the Kid, but no comparison to Billy

I ain't scared of you motherfuckers -- can't you tell?

Girls lose to me when they groove to Maxwell, uhh

I got one life to live so I'm livin

Got girls to be hittin more cars to be drivin

[Parrish Smith]

We stripped too many beats to make too many niggaz to break

No moves are fake, no warnin shots fired blastin on crews like corrupt

Jakes

The Black Viper, scream on MC's and rhyme cyphers

More Dangerous Mind than, Michelle Pfeiffer

So skedaddle-daddle, you get rattled don't wanna battle-battle

Put one to your rhyme saddle, stompin through, like wild cattle

We flow beef so dead that, let that shit cease

I'm quick with the hands, plus accurate with the two-piece

Chorus

Get this song at:  amazon.com sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

Comments